Oh yeah. A
single look at the leggy blonde in the stands and Tucker Jenkins is ready to
buck all night long. It's time to forget all about his cheating ex and his
usual hands off policy.

One Hot
Night...

Becca Hart
is an East Coast professor. Not a buckle bunny. But no degree can prepare
her for the moves of the sexy bull rider she hooks up with at her first rodeo
... Or the shock of finding him at her first Oklahoma State University staff
meeting.

One Happy
Ending...

Tuck knows it's all about holding on, no matter how wild the ride. Now
he just has to convince Becca that a rough start out of the chute doesn't mean
they aren't a smokin' combination ...

“Hold on to your hat…ONE NIGHT
WITH A COWBOY is one sexy romp” ~ Lorelei James, NY Times and USA Today Best Seller

EXCERPT
(rated G)

“I have a room with a
king-sized bed available. Will that be all right?”

“Perfect.” Tucker shot her a
smirk and she felt her cheeks heat.

How many more embarrassing
questions could this desk clerk ask? There couldn’t possibly be any more. He’d
pretty much covered everything he could to humiliate her.

Yes, only one night. Yes, the bigger the bed the better.
Yes, we’ll be having lots of sex. Thank you for asking.

“Do you need help with your
luggage?”

She nearly choked as the
hotel employee managed to come up with one more thing she hadn’t even
considered.

No, no luggage. Just sex.

“No, thanks. We’re good.”
Cool as a cucumber, as he had been through the entire check-in, Tucker picked
up the pen and signed the paper the clerk had pushed toward him.

“We’re all set then. Check
out is eleven, and elevators are to your right.”

“Great. Thanks.” Tucker slid
the signed form back and took the keycard from him. After slipping the small
piece of plastic into his back pocket, he took her hand in his and turned
toward the elevators.

At least that part of the
night was over, but even though she couldn’t wait to get out of sight of the
lobby and the front desk, Tucker moved at his usual pace. Something between an
amble and a stroll. It would be very atmospheric in an old Western movie. Here
and now, it made the New Yorker in her cringe as she fought the urge to
sprint—or at least power walk—to their destination.

When they finally reached
the elevators and were out of earshot of the clerk, she turned to glance at
Tucker. “I’m so embarrassed.”

He frowned down at her from
beneath his ever-present cowboy hat. The bad-girl side of her—the one she
hadn’t known existed until Emma forced her to go to the rodeo to look for
cowboys in the first place—couldn’t help wondering if Tucker normally took his
hat off to have sex or if he left it on. It was like a fist to the stomach when
she realized she’d know one way or the other very soon. Wow.

“Embarrassed about what?” he
asked, knocking the image of him, naked except for his hat, out of her spinning
brain.

“He must know why we’re
here. What we’re doing.” Even though there was no one nearby, Becca kept her
voice as low as humanly possible.

“You mean that we’re
checking in to have sex?” He leaned toward her and hissed the last word in an
exaggerated whisper tinged with a laugh. “Becca, why would he assume that?”

“Because it’s practically
the middle of the night.” She opened her eyes wide. Jeez. It was so obvious.

“So? We could just as easily
be two weary travelers looking for a place to rest on a long journey.” The
smirk on Tucker’s face told Becca he was enjoying this a little too much. She,
on the other hand, was not.

She frowned. “We don’t look
like travelers. We don’t even have any luggage.”

“You’re so cute being
embarrassed. Just because we don’t have luggage.” He smiled and ran one hand up
her arm. “If you want, I can go get my gear bag from the truck and carry it
past the front desk so he thinks it’s our overnight bag.”

“No.” She rolled her eyes at
his suggestion. “That won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is Oklahoma,
the rodeo state. He’ll probably know it’s full of bull stuff and think we’re
doing kinky things upstairs with it or something.” She felt the scowl settle on
her face at the thought. Best to leave it alone and cut their losses.

“First of all, Oklahoma is
the Sooner State, not the rodeo state. But besides that, I’m trying to imagine
what kind of kinky things we could possibly do with the bull stuff in my gear bag.” Tucker raised a brow.
“I suppose we could get creative with the tape I use to wrap my wrist. There is
the cowbell hanging on my bull rope… Although unless you’re into some really
weird kind of role playing, that won’t be of much use.”

Darin's mom can't stand his sexy new girlfriend. Kali parades around the
house in see-through blouses and skimpy skirts, showing off her thong
with every bend. That raunchy girl turns her stomach... until the
morning she finds Kali passed out alone in Darin's bed. Asleep, Kali
doesn't seem so bad. In fact, Mama can't resist getting a closer look!
Will her son's sleeping girlfriend wake up to a screaming orgasm, or
screaming bloody murder?

Excerpt:

Kali was a lazy, good-for-nothing slut.

Maybe every mother thinks her son’s girlfriends are trouble, but Kali
seemed to go out of her way to prove me right. She wore sheer tops I
could see her bra right through, and skimpy little skirts. Every time
she bent over, she gave me a good look at her ass crack and her skanky
thong.

I hoped my boy would get bored with her. I hoped she would just go away.

But no.

More and more, Kali was spending nights at our house. Darin’s room was
all the way at the other end of the hall, and still I could hear them
fucking at two in the morning. I had to wear earplugs just so I wouldn’t
have to hear that little bitch crying out, “Yes, baby! Fuck my ass!
Give it to me, hard!”

Everything about her turned my stomach.

And then, one Saturday night, the pair of them came stumbling home at
three in the morning, crashing around downstairs, getting on my last
nerve. I tore a strip off Darin because he was supposed to work his
restaurant job the next morning. How the hell did he expect to function
when he’d been out drinking all night?

I don’t remember half of what I said, but Darin gave as good as he got.
Kali was smart enough to keep her mouth shut. She was probably trying
not to puke.

In the morning, I had to drag Darin out of bed. From the looks of it,
they’d been so drunk they’d collapsed, side by side, on top of the
covers. They were both fully dressed.

After I’d pushed Darin out the door, I went about my Sunday morning
chores, trying to make enough noise to drive Kali out of my goddamn
house. I even vacuumed right outside Darin’s bedroom, but Kali just
buried her head in the pillow.

When she rolled over, something else happened, too—her short skirt
flipped, revealing the gentle swell of her beautiful, bare butt.

My breath caught in my throat because, my god, her ass was perfect. I
shouldn’t have been staring. She was my son’s girlfriend, after all…
but, hell, it was my house! And yes the girl drove me crazy, but I
couldn’t take my eyes off her naked lower half. Well, she still had her
strappy stilettoes on her feet, but aside from that, she was largely
nude. Was she even wearing underwear?

I crept closer to the bed to get a look. Between her legs, I could just
see the silky gusset of a little red thong. It amazed me how un-hairy
she was. She must have had one of those bikini waxes… what were they
called? Bermuda? Barbados? No, wait—Brazilian…

We never did that sort of thing, when I was her age. We didn’t even trim our bushes, back then.

My very first BDSM title is OUT NOW!! This is my modern day take on The Miller's Son and the Cat (which is a story that shares a lot of similarities with Puss in Boots but they aren't the same). Really this was just an excuse for me to write a kitty-girl -- all the anime fans know what I'm talking about.

Eric Miller has a dilemma. He has seven years to make his company succeed so he can sell it and prove to his father he has what it takes to head the family business. Eric’s two brothers are out to prove the same. Only one can inherit, and it doesn’t look like it’ll be Eric until he adopts a little black cat that changes his life.

Simone is willing to help in exchange for his complete obedience. Under her direction, Eric finds his desires shifting from running a company to a certain sex kitten whose purr drives him wild. The deadline is nearing, and Eric’s time with Simone is about to end. He plans to find a way to make her stay… even if it’s on his knees.Buy Now:http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1998R EXCERPT
The black, patent leather, four-inch heels were sleek like Simone. It had been Eric's first thought when he saw them. He'd liked them but had hesitated in putting them with the lot until the ladies who had helped him approved the choice.

Simone said, "It's hard to believe you are struggling when you have such gorgeous merchandise."

He didn't think she meant for him to comment so he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't like he had an explanation. The women who worked in his store gushed about the shoes and loved the prices, but the company was still sinking.

She walked back to him, and her gaze strayed down his body to the arousal parting his robe. "See something you like, Eric?"

"Yes, Maestra."

The tip of her tail tickled the underside of his chin before she trailed it down his chest, past his stomach, and over his shaft to swirl around his tip. Eric sucked in a shuddering breath. The muscles of his waist tightened with the need to move his hips. He had to stay still.

Simone watched him as she played her tail over and under his length and around his balls. If he so much as twitched, she would leave him hard and wanting with his hands bound behind his back for the rest of the night. She'd done it before when she'd started training him to this lifestyle. He hadn't thought he was the type until she took him in hand and showed him he was wrong.

Now he craved the sweet torture she made him endure because the reward at the end was more than worth it. Her training had also done wonders for his endurance. Simone liked to test his limits to see how long he could stand her teasing before begging for release. The longer he lasted, the more likely he would be allowed entry to her tight, hot pussy.

"Such a good boy," Simone said with a purr that made her voice rumble. "Ready to go again so soon after our little romp. I didn't know you held so much promise when I initiated you."

"Thank you, Maestra." His voice shook a little as he held back a pleasured shiver. Her tail had curled around his dick and started squeezing him. A normal cat's tail wasn't this flexible, but he had long since stopped measuring Simone by the standards of normal cats.

For a couple years now, I've been toying with the idea of putting together a single-author anthology of kinky menage stories. Finally, that idea has come to fruition, thanks to the lovely people at loveyoudivine Alterotica. "Kinksters" is now available!

In
Giselle Renarde’s Kinksters anthology, a lesbian couple shares their
anal fetish with a school friend, while a sword collector pays five
young men to fulfill her sex-swing fantasy. A gorgeous restaurateur
cheats with two men in one night. Three college kids take their tornado
fetish on the road, and an Inuit woman faces the dreaded three-headed
sea monster. There’s an all-girl waxing session, a vintage clothing
enthusiast and her bisexual man candy, and a cougar with two male
escorts who also happen to be angels. In Rainbow Night, three rich
bitches trade husbands for an evening of cock-sucking, while a roomful
of women squirt all over a tattooed beauty in Lesbukake.

Includes
previously published titles Elementary, My Dear Kathryn, Five Body
Blade, In the Eye, Beneath the Ice, and Waxing is for Pussies.

Excerpt: From “Elementary, My Dear Kathryn”

Melanie’s pussy throbbed.

The
juice of her arousal slicked the gusset of her panties. Her clit
pounded so hard against the seam of her slacks she could have sworn she
was growing a stiff cock in there. God, this was too much. Kathryn was
getting all the attention tonight, and in a lot of ways, that was
torture.

“My dear Kathryn, you have a beautiful asshole.” Pasha’s
honey voice violated Melanie’s sensibilities, but she reminded herself
jealousy wasn’t worth her time. “Roll onto your back, will you, so I can
get a better view of your pussy?”

At first, Kathryn did nothing.
When she did move, it was to gaze at Melanie, perched beside Pasha.
Melanie knew that look. Kathryn was seeking permission. It was sort of
sweet, actually. With an instant smile, Melanie nodded. Only then did
Kathryn ease up on all fours like a dog with its tail between its legs,
settling cautiously in front of Pasha.

Melanie couldn’t stop
eyeing Kathryn’s tits. Those little nipples played hide-and-seek as she
breathed, rising just above the top of her exposed bra before ducking
inside the cups. When Pasha urged her to raise her hips, her breasts
swelled out and, God, did Melanie ever want to suck those little
nipples.

“Not yet,” Pasha instructed, always the mind-reader. “I
want you to watch what I do to our dear Kathryn. You will learn, my
girl.”

My girrel.

Melanie nodded, even though Pasha’s
gaze was focused squarely on Kathryn’s cunt. She pierced that begging
slit—three fat fingers all in one go—and Kathryn bucked her hips even
higher, squealing. Melanie could only imagine the intense sensation…and,
God, did she imagine!

“You see what I do?” Pasha asked as she pulled her fingers from between Kathryn’s swollen lips.

Melanie
felt like the host of a talk show, watching her celebrity chef guest
prepare a delicacy. She kept thinking, ‘I know how to do this! I’m not
stupid!’ and then forcing humility upon herself. Nobody was so clever
they couldn’t learn something new. She watched as Pasha spread
glistening juice all over Kathryn’s ass crack. It was beautiful, the way
Kathryn moaned and writhed on the bed while Pasha rubbed there.

“A
clean asshole is a wonderful thing,” Pasha said as she poked a
fingertip inside, turning it like a corkscrew. She didn’t wait long
before pressing a second one in, turning her hand, spreading her fingers
to pry open that tight hole. It really was an amazing thing to watch.

Pasha
dug in deeper, forcing past the resistance. She was so wet, so damn wet
that her raised cunt dripped juice down to ease Pasha’s way. When
Pasha’s fingers were buried to the hilt inside Kathryn’s tight little
hole, she turned her head and nodded. Melanie knew what that meant, and
she hopped right up on the bed...

So excited to announce I've got a new release out with Blushing Books called THE WAGER! It actually came out years ago under a different name - The Advice Columnist - and has been out of print for a while, so I've reworked it. This version is totally different - and I think better - than the original. I'm excited about it! Hope you will be, too!

Happy Reading!

Will this be one bet she regrets making?

When San Francisco advice columnist Skye Covington gets a letter from a reader wanting to know if she should let her boyfriend spank her, she’s quick to let her know that no modern, independent woman should submit to a man in that way. Not unless she’s okay with her boyfriend expecting her to submit to him in other areas of her life as well. A woman can’t be submissive in the bedroom and in charge outside of it, or so Skye believes.

Sports columnist Carter Madison has always been attracted to Skye, but since it’s common knowledge that she doesn’t date jocks, he never bothered asking her out. Her latest column gives him an idea, though. Since she admits she’s never been spanked and obviously knows nothing about it, he challenges her to a friendly wager. She lets him spank her three times. If she likes it, she has to apologize to her readers in her column.

Never one to pass up a dare, Skye agrees. She has no doubt she’s going to win. Because there’s no way she could ever enjoy getting spanked, right?

Excerpt:

Carter regarded her thoughtfully. “Tell me, Skye, have you ever even been spanked?”

Her color deepened. “That’s none of your damn business.”

His mouth twitched. “I’ll take that as a no. Or maybe you have been spanked, and you didn’t like it.” He considered that for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope, you’ve never been spanked. I can tell.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. How could he possibly tell something like that? What, did she have a scarlet “P” on her chest for prude? She was very kinky. She just didn’t want to be spanked.

“Don’t you have a column to write?” she said irritably. “I’m sure there’s something going on in the world of football that’s newsworthy.”

“There isn’t. I checked before I came down to get coffee.” He flashed her a grin. “If you’ve never gotten spanked, do you really think you’re qualified to give advice on the subject?”

Why was she still sitting here talking to him? “You didn’t play every position in football, but you still give your opinion on it, don’t you?”

“Not the same thing.”

God, he was annoying. “I don’t have to experience something to give advice about it. That’s what intelligence can do for you. And if I don’t have knowledge about something, I consult with someone who does.”

Carter nodded. “That makes a lot of sense. So, whom did you consult about spanking?”

Oh, damn. She’d walked right into that one, hadn’t she? So what if she hadn’t consulted with anyone about spanking? She didn’t answer to him. She certainly didn’t get a say about what he wrote in his daily column.

She grabbed her purse. “I have to get back to work.”

Carter reached out and put a hand on her arm. “Hold on a second. I think we’re making a breakthrough here that could be vital to your future as an advice columnist. You didn’t consult with anyone, did you? Which means you could have given that poor woman the wrong advice.”

She glared across the table at him. “I didn’t give her the wrong advice.”

“You hope you didn’t give her the wrong advice, but it’s possible that you did.” His golden-brown eyes glinted. “How about I give you a spanking so you’ll know a little more about the subject?”

Skye couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way in hell I would ever let you spank me.”

He lifted a brow. “Not even to help your readers?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. This isn’t about my readers. This is about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Trying to prove your right.”

“Maybe.” Carter grinned and Skye couldn’t help but notice that his smile seemed to light up a good portion of the room. “Let’s make things more interesting then. You agree to let me spank you. If I’m right and you enjoy it, you apologize to Curious in your column and tell her that you were wrong.”

Skye almost laughed at how absurd that was. “I’m not going to enjoy it.”

“Well, then you’re halfway to winning the bet already.”

“Bet?”

“Or wager, if you prefer to call it that.”

She didn’t care what he called it. It was still stupid. But she’d play his game. “So, what do I get if I win?”

He shrugged. “If you don’t enjoy it, you don’t have to apologize to Curious About Spanking in your column.”

“That’s not winning anything. In order to have a wager, both people have to risk losing something.”

“What are you suggesting?”

Skye had expected him to back down the moment she implied he’d have to ante up. The fact that he was still grinning worried her. She knew she should pick up her purse and latte and leave, but she couldn’t. She hated to admit it, but she was the kind of girl who always got pulled into the truth and dare games in college. Her pride never let her back down from a challenge. And this was definitely a challenge.
She simply had to make the risk too high for him to agree. That way, if he brought it up again, she could remind him that he was the one who’d chickened out.

“If you win the bet, I have to humiliate myself in public,” she said. “If I win, you should have to do the same.”

That sensuous mouth of his twitched. “I hardly think that apologizing to one of you readers qualifies as humiliating.”

“It’s not just the apology,” she protested. “I’ll be admitting I was wrong in front of the entire city. To me, that counts as pretty major humiliation.”

His eyes narrowed. “I think I may have misjudged you. But okay. You obviously already have something in mind, so what is it?”

“You’re going to that sports awards dinner in a couple weeks, right? The one where you’re getting recognized for best reporter of the year or something?” She’d heard it from Pam in copyediting, who’d heard if from Bob in finance, who’d heard it from Allie in arts and leisure. “If I win, you accept your award dressed up as a clown. Big baggy pants, floppy shoes, funny nose, the whole works.”

Carter stared at her as if she’d just told him she wanted him to dress up as the Sugar Plum Fairy and dance the Nutcracker. “You’re joking, right?”

Skye smiled. She knew Carter would never agree to the bet now. He was too worried about looking cool to risk losing. He’d never dress up like a clown and humiliate himself in front of his colleagues. Especially when she was essentially the one deciding who won or lost the bet.

“I knew you’d be too chicken.”

She made little, clucking sounds to make her point.

The muscle in his jaw flexed. “You’re on. If you can honestly tell me that you don’t enjoy the spankings, I’ll accept my award dressed up like a clown.”

She frowned. “Spankings? As in more than one?”

The corners of his mouth edged up. “You have complete say in who wins and loses this wager, which means we need a little something to balance the scales. Instead of one spanking, I’m going to give you three of them, at a time and place of my choosing. That will give you plenty of opportunity to reflect on them, and give me an honest opinion.”

Skye’s mouth tightened. Dammit. She was trapped and he knew it. If she didn’t agree to go through with it, Carter would think it was because she was the one who was too chicken.

“How do you know that I won’t just say I hated them, no matter what?”

“You could do that, but I’m depending on your journalistic integrity to keep you honest. I’m willing to take the chance. Are you?”

Even though she knew she shouldn’t do it, Skye found herself nodding. “It’s a deal.”

Carter reached out to shake her hand. His was big and strong, and just the slightest bit rough. “I’ll pick you up Friday around seven.”

Her brow furrowed. “Pick me up for what?”

“To take you out to dinner, of course.”

She blinked. “You’re taking me out to dinner? We didn’t say anything about a date.”

He snorted. “What did you think I was going to do, come by your cubicle on my lunch break and give you a spanking? Besides, it’s not a date. It’s just two coworkers having dinner together.”

One of whom was going to spank the other at the end of the night. “Right.”

“You have to be in the right mood to enjoy your spanking, and in the interest of winning the bet, I’d be stupid not to help you get into the right mood.”

Skye gritted her teeth. Carter may not want to call it a date, but it sure seemed like one to her. Well, she was stuck now.

“Fine. I’ll text you my address,” she snapped, picking up her phone and getting to her feet. “By the way, I don’t like seafood.”

“You live in San Francisco, and you don’t like seafood?” When she only glowered at him, he held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, no seafood.”

What the hell had her pride gotten her into? “You’d better reserve that clown costume, because you’re going to need it.”

Giving him one more glare, she grabbed her purse and half-finished latte, then turned on her heel and stomped out of the coffee shop.

Good Bi Valentine

By: Giselle Renarde Published By: Excessica PublishingBanned by All Romance!Spend Valentine's Day with Lexi the Sexi Superintendent and her apartment building full of very naughty tenants.

Lexi the Sexi building superintendent (okay, assistant super) thinks she's taking Valentine's Day by storm. She doesn't do "romance" or "relationships." Casual sex with attractive tenants is more her style. After an exhausting porn-watching session with a cute guy in the building, the beautiful Mrs Suraj won't release her until those rusty pipes are fixed. The sexy super comes home to a pussycat pair of college friends desperate for someone to help them out with their Valentine gift to each other: homemade porn!

WARNINGS: This title contains m/f and f/f sex, mild BDSM, and graphic descriptions of cheesy 1980’s porn, including but not limited to fluorescent and animal print bikinis. Originally published as ‘All in a Valentine Day’s Work.’

Excerpt:

Elio asked, “Would you videotape us?”

I nearly did an orange juice spit-take. “Videotape you? Doing what?”

This was such a sweet, shy couple. They couldn’t possibly be asking what I thought they were asking.

Natalie lifted a camcorder out of the mauve and dark purple backpack she’d brought into my apartment. “We tried to do it ourselves, but we ended up filming the wall and then the ceiling, and then the third time the whole thing was just a blurry shot of Elio’s butt. We can’t seem to get it right on our own. We just need someone to hold the camera and keep it on us.”

“And maybe get some close-up shots?” Elio added.

“You mean you want me to film you having sex?” I tried very hard to make it sound like I was only clarifying, not to criticizing.

The pair giggled and nodded in unison. Do they do everything in unison?

Kind of crazy that they’d ask some random person, but I liked the idea of spying on this pair through a camera lens. At the same time, I was about to drop dead from hunger and exhaustion. All I really wanted to do was fall into bed and crash.

“This is our Valentine’s Day gift to each other,” Natalie explained. “We’re making our own porn. That way neither of us has to feel like we’re being unfaithful if we watch it. Good idea, right?”

“But you don’t know me,” I found myself objecting. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable doing this with a friend, or at least somebody you’ve met more than once?”

“No,” they replied in unison.

Natalie continued, “That’s exactly why we’re asking you. We couldn’t have sex in front of someone we knew, but we don’t know you so we wouldn’t mind. Plus, we know how open-minded you are, so you wouldn’t laugh at us.”

Elio chimed in, “And you wouldn’t get turned on because you’re....”

Natalie stomped on Elio’s foot to keep him from saying anything too stupid.

Sarah doesn't have much in common with the other girls in town. She's
never even kissed a boy… until the evening Anderson walks her home. Over
time, Anderson presses her for more than just kisses, and on the
one-year anniversary of their first kiss Sarah might just give in to his
whims. But the woods are dark at night, and there are creatures about,
howling in the distance.

When Anderson is accosted by a wolf under the light of a full moon, will
Sarah save her beau? Or will she be caught in the crossfire? And if she
survives the attack, will life ever be the same?

I remember the smell of wet dog, and sneezing so hard my head rang like a
church bell. The pain shot through me, all the way down to my toes.
The damp had found its way into my bones. There was a soup of sorts, fed
to me by unknown hands. I could see nothing.

The world went black.

Snow was the next smell, so fresh it drove out the dog scent almost completely.

When I awoke, there was a man standing over me. Behind him, two things:
light so bright I wanted to clamp my eyes shut against it, and darkness
so black it disappeared into oblivion. As I fixed my gaze on the dark
shape in front of me, I realized the blackness was in fact the interior
of a cave, and the whiteness was snow at its mouth.

It was wintertime. I knew little else, but I did know that.

My thoughts were a jumble of half-remembrances. Some might have been
life, some dreams. I had a feeling I’d dreamed more than lived lately,
especially when I realized I had on only a soiled slip under a great
heap of blankets. Wherever I was, I’d been there for some time.

“Sarah?” a man asked. “You’re awake, are you?”

I wasn’t afraid of him, because I knew him. His voice was familiar to me.

“Would you like a drink of water?” he asked. He took a step forward and
I saw his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow, dark wool trousers and
suspenders. “I have meat broth warming on the fire.”

“What happened to me?” I squirmed under the pile of blankets, feeling
soaked with sweat and goodness knows what else. “Why am I here?”

I felt like I knew the answers to those questions, but I needed some
clarification. The man kneeled down beside me, and I felt a smile beam
across my face as I realized who he was.

Ten
days until Valentine’s Day. Unlike the big commercial fuss we make of it today,
there was once a time St. Valentine’s Day was when you sent a card anonymously
to the one you loved in the hope they would guess it was from you and that your
feelings were reciprocated.

I
remember once seeing a very old Valentine’s Day card that was covered with tiny,
different colored, satin bows. The fabric of the bows was faded and some were
frayed, but beside each bow was a message. I don’t remember them all but those
that I do went like this…If you love some other fellow, send me back this bow
of yellow. If of me you sometimes think, send me back this bow of pink. And my
favorite…If to me you would be true, send me back this bow of blue.

I’ve
often wondered how many hearts beat in nervous anticipation, wondering if whoever
they’d sent the card to would know who it was from. And if so what color bow would
come back? Would it bring happiness or heartbreak? Or would the card go
unanswered, leaving the sender to wonder if it was lost in the mail or if the
person they’d sent it to simply didn’t care? Maybe it just got delayed and
wasn’t delivered until many years later. Maybe it’s still sitting there in
someone’s memory box because the sender never found the courage to mail it. And
just maybe the person who received the card couldn’t decide who the sender was
and didn’t want to take a chance and guess.

And what
happened next? Did the senders and receivers of those anonymous cards find true
love together or did they find it with someone else? And what about those who
never mailed the card or didn’t have the courage to figure out who’d sent it? Are
they still somewhere out there, dreaming and hoping that true love will
eventually find them?

For all
of us who’ve found true love and for all of us who’re still looking, I hope St.
Valentine’s Day 2013 is a truly special day for each and every one of us.

Nothing
says romance like a broken heart or a lonely one searching for its soul mate.
We’ve all been there. You’re so sure you’ve found your true love, but something
happens and it’s back to lonely nights and breakfast for one. Or perhaps you’re
so scared of getting hurt you become overly cautious and don’t realize what’s
staring you in the face.

Alain
Lazier was heartbroken when his longtime partner told him it was over. He’d
been positive James was Mr. Right until he met up with an old acquaintance and
realized he’d had a lucky escape. Seth Lawley was ready to settle down if and
when he met the right man. But Seth was so darn cautious if it hadn’t been for
Grant’s matchmaking cat the two of them would never have got together.

Best-selling author Christiane France offers two tales of
Gay Erotic Romance, one where a broken heart and a chance meeting have
unexpected results, and the other where an impatient and matchmaking feline
conspires to bring two lonely men together.

Previously available only in electronic format, these
stories have now been combined for a paperback edition! Included are the
tales...

·Blues In The Night
To celebrate their reunion after a six-month work-related separation, Alain and
his partner James have planned to meet up for the perfect dream vacation. When
James calls with what Alain expects to be details of his arrival time at the
first stop on their itinerary, James says he won’t be joining him. He’s met
someone new, the temporary assignment has turned into a permanent job, and
sorry, but their relationship is over.

Alain leaves the hotel, hoping the sights and sounds of the
city will help distract him from the shock of James’ desertion, maybe stop him
from trying to figure out ways of changing the unchangeable. As evening turns
to night, he continues walking, up one street and down the next until music
drifting up from a basement nightclub catches his attention. The singer’s voice
is distinctive, different, and it sounds like Kenny Dumaine, a man Alain met in
his hometown a couple of years ago.

Kenny doesn’t remember him at first. But Alain is drinking
heavily, and when he mentions what sounds like a romance gone wrong, Kenny
recalls the circumstances of their first meeting. Alain had helped him out of a
bad spot, and now it looks like he needs the favor returned. Kenny was
attracted to Alain first time around, and although things never turned
physical, that hasn’t changed. As an entertainer, always on the move, he’s
learned to keep things casual. His last performance is the following night, and
the next day he’ll be gone. Where’s the harm in offering an old acquaintance a
little badly needed TLC?

·And The Cat Came Back
Home renovator Seth Lawley is ready to settle down if the right man comes
along, but he’s cautious. He believes he who hesitates saves himself a whole
lot of heartbreak.

Grant Kenyon, on the other hand, is ready to take a chance.
He figures anyone who hesitates when it comes to grabbing what he wants from
life risks losing out.

Foofuss, Grant’s bossy, matchmaking Persian cat, has decided
his master needs company and Seth is it...that’s if he can figure out the
perfect plan to bring the two of them together.